The Strands of Time
by 554Laura
Summary: Written for the latest Bonesology challenge. What happens when our favorite characters meet under different circumstances? This story focuses on four main characters, and is AU, but there will be a happy ending. Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: this story was written for this week's Bonesology challenge, which was to tell what would happen when the characters met for the first time under different circumstances than were shown to us in the episodes. Instead of explaining things for all the characters, I've decided to make this a multi chapter story focusing on only four characters, although other characters will be mentioned. We will experience some time jumps, so the story may not seem linear, but eventually things will fall into place. This story is AU, but I promise it will have a happy ending. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it._

* * *

 _Late December, 1988_

There were less than three minutes left in the championship game of the Keystone State High School PreSeason Tournament. The game had been close for the first three quarters, but the green clad Northland Vikings, a team from Columbus, Ohio, had pulled away in the fourth, and now led the Philadelphia based Central High School by eight points. The home crowd was tense as they watched their Lancers try to catch up while the seconds ticked away.

Seeley Booth glanced at the clock positioned high on the gym wall as he ran down the court, positioning himself in the corner to take the three point shot. He held his arm up so Jefferson, the point guard, would pass him the ball. After gaining possession, Booth feigned to his left before turning to his right and shooting over the Vikings forward. The shot went in, accompanied by the roar of the crowd and the referee's whistle.

Turning to the scorer's table, the referee explained his call. "Foul on green 52...blocking. Basket counts. Red's ball. One shot."

The Northland coach complained bitterly about the call as a hush fell over the crowd. Booth stood on the foul line, and after bouncing the basketball a few times, calmly sank the free throw for a four point play. As the man continued his loud tirade from the sideline, the second referee had heard enough, calling the second technical on the coach and ejecting him from the game. The crowd cheered wildly as the man was escorted from the court. The Lancers' coach called his players over to their bench. "Okay...Booth's gonna take our technicals for us. Jefferson, when the ref gives you the ball, they're gonna be guarding Booth, so inbound it to Harvey. Booth...get yourself open to take the shot. Harvey, dribble a few seconds if you can...we want to eat some clock, but be careful to avoid the steal, okay? Then pass the ball to Booth when you get a chance. We've got to make this work, boys…after we score, we have to hold'em. Ready? ONE, TWO, THREE...LANCERS!"

Seeley Booth felt his heart pounding in his chest as he walked to the free throw line, willing himself to be calm so he could concentrate on the task at hand. _You can do this, Booth. Ignore the crowd and the noise. Don't worry about everything in the background. Focus on the basket. Just like all those times with Pops and Jared in the back yard. Inhale...hold your breath…_ The first shot gently fell through the net. _That's great...one more time…_ The second shot bounced gently off the backboard but went through the hoop. The Lancers were down by only two points with less than two minutes remaining.

The referee handed the ball to Jefferson, who managed to get off a bounce pass around the Vikings player. Harvey, the shooting guard, dribbled a few seconds before passing to Booth, who hit another three point shot. The Lancers were up by one.

The Vikings inbounded the ball with a little over a minute left. Booth sprinted down the court to guard the Vikings' best player...number 52. Positioning himself in the key, Booth put his arms up just as the player in the green uniform ran into him, causing both players to tumble to the ground as their legs hit kneecap to kneecap. The crowd fell silent, anxiously awaiting the call as the players tried to stand up, but 52 lay on the floor, writhing in pain.

"Foul on 52 green...charging...red ball. Injury time out."

The Vikings assistant coach and the trainer came out to help 52 slowly walk off the court to a smattering of applause from the crowd. The young man was obviously in a great deal of pain, sitting on the end of the bench, covering his face with a towel as the trainer applied some ice.

Meanwhile, the Lancers inbounded the ball and avoided the swarming Viking defense long enough to win the game and the tournament championship. Booth was awarded the game ball for his efforts, and he also caught the eye of one of the college scouts who had attended the tournament. Things were looking good for his dreams of a college basketball scholarship. Maybe things were finally going to turn out right for Seeley Booth.

Oooooooooo

 _Late December, 1998_

Seeley Booth sighed as he got ready to leave his desk on a blustery Friday evening. He hated being in the bullpen, but at least he was finally getting to know some of the other people who worked with him. He'd been really pleased to be assigned to the FBI's New York City field office, especially since he'd earned it by working hard to be in the top quarter of his class at Quantico. He also knew that his experience as a US Army Ranger and his ranking as a world class sniper had assisted his placement as well, but he didn't like to talk about those things too much. He figured that stuff would just lead to some misunderstandings, so he kept that information to himself.

Gathering up his keys, phone, and overcoat, he stopped by his friend's desk. "Hey, Sully. Got any plans for the evening? If not, how 'bout a beer on the way home?"

"You buying?" Tim Sullivan smirked as he shut down his computer. "Yeah, I got nothing going on tonight. I swear, you'd think two good lookin' guys like us would have the babes lined up at the door, right? I mean, I know you've got Cam, but I don't know how you managed to meet the only cute coroner in the world, Booth. Have you met the women she works with? Ouch. And what about poor ol' me? Come on. She must have some hot friends...maybe you can get her to set me up with one of them since I'm your good buddy, right, Booth?"

"Hey, me and Cam….it's not like that, alright?" Booth narrowed his eyes at Sully. "It's not like she's my girlfriend…we're good friends, but I don't know if we're good enough friends for me to ask her to do something like that for you. Anyway, I'm sure her friends have high standards, you know? It might be hard to find one of them that's interested in some poor FBI field agent."

"Yeah, right. Whatever you say, Booth. I wish I had 'friends' that looked at me like Cam looks at you. I'd be very satisfied with life right now if I did." Seeing that Booth was not impressed with his joke, Sully shrugged. "Yeah, let's go have that beer."

Oooooooooo

The two agents sat down at the counter in a small corner tavern and ordered their beer. After a bit of aimless chitchat they began to watch basketball on the television over the bar. The Knicks were playing the Celtics, and the game was hotly contested. It was late in the first half when a player was set in a defensive position and took a charge from the man dribbling the ball, sending both of the players sprawling on the floor. The referee blew his whistle loudly as both men rose from the floor jawing at each other.

Booth shook his head. "I don't know why that Knicks player is whining. It was obviously a charge. The Celtics' player was set."

"Well, of course you'd think that, Booth. You know how to act like you're taking a charge, even when it's an obvious blocking foul." Sully shook his head sullenly as he sipped his beer. "You know how to make shit look good for the refs, don't you?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Sully?" Shocked at his friend's sudden change in demeanor, Booth stared at him for a few seconds. "I mean, yeah, I played basketball in high school…"

"I know you did. I did, too, for awhile, until I got blocked just like that in a preseason game…you really don't remember, do you?" Sully ate some peanuts as he studied Booth's exasperated expression. "Okay, I'll give you a hint. Keystone PreSeason tournament...under two minutes left. Northland has the ball but there's a charging call. A player goes down…"

"Wait a minute…" Booth's eyes grew wide as he remembered what happened next. "That was you, Sully? You were number 52? Man, you were so good…I can't believe that was you! You must've killed it playing college ball. How long have you known who I was? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I've known since my first day in the office, when Director Henderson introduced us." Sully avoided eye contact as he explained. "I guess I was still angry about what happened in that game." He held his hand up to stop Booth's interruptions. "It's a long story, but here's the abridged version, okay? I knew I was hurt that night, but I thought it was just a stinger...no big deal, right? My coach was gonna look at it when we got back home, but he got canned almost immediately after the game for being such a hothead. Then it was Christmas and New Year's, so I never got my knee looked at, but I rested it a lot and it felt better. When school was back in session, I tried to practice, but I was in too much pain, so I finally had to go to the doctor. Turns out I'd slightly torn a ligament in my knee and cracked my patella when our legs collided, and because I'd waited so long to have it looked at, it didn't heal right. I had to have some pretty extensive surgery, so I missed the rest of my senior season, and my basketball scholarship prospects went out the window."

"Hey, I'm sorry to hear that. I didn't know…" Booth realized Sully's knee injury wasn't really his fault, but he couldn't help feeling bad about it anyway. "So what happened next?"

"I went to Ohio State on an academic scholarship. Turns out that in addition to being good looking, I'm actually pretty smart, too." Sully chuckled as Booth rolled his eyes. "I received two degrees from there...one in art history, and one in criminal justice. Originally I wanted to work for Interpol, trying to find stolen Picassos and shit like that, but it's a lot less expensive to live in the States, and I was recruited by the FBI, so I went to Quantico." Finishing his beer, Sully wiped his mouth as he turned to Booth. "What about you? You play ball in college?"

"Yeah, I got a scholarship to play ball. I rode the bench for awhile, and when I finally did get to play, I tore the labrum in my right shoulder...some sort of repetitive motion injury. I had it surgically repaired, so my shoulder's fine, but because of the time involved in my recovery, I had to give up my scholarship. I decided to join the Army for a couple of years, and that helped me pay for college. I was able to take a lot of courses online that enabled me to get my degree. When I decided against reenlistment, I applied at Quantico, and here I am." Booth studied his Pilsner glass before draining it. "You'd be within your rights to be pissed at me, Sully…I guess I kinda ruined your life."

"I was pissed at first, but then I decided it was no big deal. I mean, it wasn't like I could go pro, and things worked out for me after all. I like my job and I like living in here in New York. It's a great place for a single guy."

"Yeah, maybe, but I'm thinking about asking for a transfer to DC. My ex and my kid live in the area around there, and I miss seeing him as often as I did when I was living in Virginia." Booth shrugged. "We'll see. Hey, half time's over. Want another beer? This round can be on me, too, since I'm the one who mangled your leg."

"Great." Sully smiled as he accepted another beer from the bartender. "Hey, if you do leave town, can I have Cam's phone number?"

"Ha ha. Very funny. Like she'd have anything to do with you, Bozo." Nodding toward the television, Booth shook his head. "Another bad call…"

"Yeah. Maybe those refs are the same ones we had for our game. Maybe they moved up the ranks to do pro games." Sully grinned. "No hard feelings, Booth."

"Thanks, Sully." Booth smiled back. As much as he was looking forward to a transfer to DC, he knew he'd miss having a beer with his good friend Tim Sullivan.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Please remember that this story is AU so I've played around with the time line a little bit. Teresa Dean, the journalist mentioned in this chapter was a real person. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it._

* * *

 _March 1999_

Temperance Brennan strode purposefully across the campus of Northwestern University, pulling her jacket around her to ward off the chilly breeze that evening. March weather in Chicago was unpredictable at best, and today had been no exception. After a warm morning, the temperature had dropped drastically throughout the afternoon. Picking up her pace as she got closer to her goal, she hurried toward the Deering Library building.

The large, attractive stone building had been modeled after some of the edifices found on the campus of Cambridge, and the arched windows gave it the air of an ancient Gothic cathedral. Shifting her backpack on her shoulder, Brennan quickly walked up the three flights of stairs to the reading room adjacent to the Charles Deering McCormack Library of Special Collections.

Out of all the part time jobs she'd had during her time at the university, this was perhaps her favorite. The architecture and woodwork in the room had an Old World air that she found very appealing. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately from Brennan's point of view, very few people ventured up to this floor of the Deering, and she expected even fewer visitors on a blustery Friday evening. That meant she'd have time to read, and maybe, if she was feeling brave, she could make some headway on the manuscript for a novel she'd been writing off and on over the last year. Pleased with her plan, Brennan settled in behind the librarian's desk and pulled out her textbook.

After an hour of silence, Brennan was so thoroughly engrossed in her reading that she was startled when she heard someone clearing their throat.

"Um, excuse me?", the young blonde woman began tentatively. "I'd like to look at some of the materials in the collection...oh, my God...Ms. Brennan?"

"Yes…" Looking up from her book, she blinked owlishly at the young woman. "Yes, I'm Brennan…"

"You may not remember me, but I was in Dr. Stires' Intro to Ancient Civilizations class a couple of years ago. You were his teaching assistant then. I'm Hannah...Hannah Burley. You tutored me after my illness…"

Nodding as she remembered, Brennan smiled. "Oh, yes. Now I know who you are. You'd contracted mononucleosis, right? If I remember correctly, you missed several classes..."

"I did, but you brought me the class notes you'd prepared and helped me get ready for the midterm. I'm sure I would've failed the class without your help." Hannah smiled as she flicked her long hair over her shoulder. "I don't know if I ever told you how much I appreciated it."

"I was just doing my job as Dr. Stires' assistant." Brennan carefully studied the blonde in front of her. Hannah definitely fit into the Golden Ratio, but there was so much more to the young woman besides her looks. She had an impressive intellect as well, never being satisfied with just getting the right answer to a question. Hannah also needed to know why that was the correct answer, which set her apart from the average co-ed. That curiosity had been why Brennan had decided to assist her in catching up. "Anyway, what materials did you wish to see?"

"The Teresa Dean papers. She was one of the first female war correspondents. She covered the Spanish-American War, the Boxer Rebellion, World War I and several presidential elections. She's kind of my hero. I want to use my journalism degree like that...I want to go where the action is and tell other people what's happening there." Hannah's voice vibrated with excitement as she filled out the materials request form. "I'm doing my junior research project about her."

Glancing at the form, Brennan pushed her chair away from the desk. "If you'll wait here…" Walking back into the storage area, she found the material in question and brought it out for Hannah. "Here you go. You can't remove these papers from the reading room, so when you're finished with them, return them to me so I can put them away."

"Ok, thanks." Hannah started to move toward a library table before turning back to Brennan. "Hey, some friends and I are going to a bar in Chicago tomorrow night...the Green Mill Lounge. Why don't you come with us? It'll be lots of fun...a lot of cute guys hang out there…"

Brennan was surprised. "Are you actually old enough to enter a cocktail lounge, Ms. Burley?"

"Well, I'm not twenty one, if that's what you mean, but I know the owner, and he never cards me or my friends, if that's what you're worried about."

"No, I'm not worried about that. I'm over twenty one." Biting her lip nervously, Brennan shook her head. "However...I'm not really the 'going to a bar' type…I don't know if it would be a good idea for me to go..."

"C'mon, Ms. Brennan...Temperance...let me buy you a beer, alright? It's the least I can do for you since you helped me pass my class…" Hannah wore a sly grin. "As an anthropologist, you know how important it is for members of a community to follow these sorts of social mores…8 PM tomorrow night, okay?"

"Alright...maybe just one beer…" Brennan realized that she'd have nothing in common with Hannah and her friends, but she'd been curious about the Chicago nightlife, and the Green Mill was supposed to be a good people watching spot. "Very well. I'll meet you there tomorrow evening."

"Great. Oh, geez...look at the time. I guess I'd better get busy looking over these papers. I'll bring these back soon."

"Excellent." Brennan turned back to her book, wondering what the next evening would bring.

Oooooooooo

Agents Seeley Booth and Tim Sullivan strolled down a busy street in Chicago, wearing what Sully called their 'regular guy disguises' of jeans, tee shirts, and leather jackets. They were also engaged in some friendly banter as they made their way to one of the local watering holes.

"How'd you pick this place, Sully?", Booth groused. "It's kinda off the beaten path, isn't it?"

"Are you kidding? This place is famous. Al Capone used to run his whiskey through the place during Prohibition. As an FBI agent here for a conference about RICO, you should appreciate the history of a bar like this."

"Right." Booth sighed as he looked at the gaudy neon sign. "The Green Mill Lounge, huh? Okay, what the hell...I need a beer, anyway. But listen, if this place is a bust, I'm picking the next place…"

"Yeah, whatever. C'mon. They've got jazz going tonight…" Sully pushed open the door. "You like that shit, right?"

"I like it." Booth took a quick look around the dimly lit room. "Jesus, Sully...it must be college night or something. Me and you are the oldest people here. We aren't gonna find any action with this crowd. It'd be like dating someone's little sister, and I don't go in for that sort of pervy shit."

Rolling his eyes, Sully shrugged in defeat. "Okay, okay. We'll get a drink and then go somewhere else. There's a table…"

The two agents sat down at a small round table as Sully waved to get the barmaid's attention. "Two beers, honey…"

"Honey? What the hell is wrong with you?", Booth growled. "She's gonna think you're old enough to be her dad."

"Just shut up, okay?" Glancing around the room, Sully nudged Booth. "Hey, don't look now, but we're being checked out by the table next to us…" Sully winked and offered a small wave to the next table. "Hiya, girls…"

Booth looked over his shoulder and turned back to his friend. "Seriously? I bet those girls aren't even old enough to be in this bar legally…" He shrugged a shoulder as he glanced at the girls again. "I will admit that blonde is really cute…"

The blonde in question turned to the woman sitting next to her. "So what do you think? Live ones, right? I bet they've got a lot of money to spend on their new friends, too."

"C'mon, Hannah. Aren't those guys a little old for us?" Marilyn wasn't impressed. "Hey, where did Temperance go?"

"She had to go to the bathroom. I really thought she'd be more fun, you know? But she's over 21, so if anyone asks us, she bought the drinks...they're all for her." Hannah giggled as she smoothed her hair. "I think we need to go over and introduce ourselves…that taller one with the spiky brown hair is really cute. Look at those muscles...the other one isn't bad if you like floppy hair..."

"I don't know, Hannah…", Marilyn whined. "I think they're both cops…they're probably both in their late twenties or early thirties..."

"Oh, seriously, Marilyn. It's not like I want to marry the guy. I just want to have some fun, okay? It's not gonna be anything serious. I'm just tired of the boys here at school. I want a real man for a change. I want to be daring for once." Picking up her drink, Hannah walked over to where the two men were sitting. "Hi. Mind if we join you?"

"Not at all." Ignoring Booth's glare, Sully gestured at the empty chairs around the table. "I'm Sully, and this here's Booth. Who might you lovely ladies be?"

Giggling coyly, Hannah batted her eyelashes as she sipped her drink. "I'm Hannah, and this is Marilyn. So do you guys live in Chicago?"

"Nah, we're just visiting, right, Booth?" Sully stuck his elbow in his partner's ribs.

"Right." Feeling out of sorts with Sully, he drained his beer. "I need to find the john…"

"Oh, it's back there in the corner…" Marilyn pointed over Sully's shoulder.

"Thanks." Pushing his chair away from the table, Booth quickly made his way toward the mens' room. In his irritation, he wasn't watching where he was going, and he ran into a woman who was leaving the ladies' room.

"Oh, uh...excuse me…" Booth gasped, transfixed for a few seconds as he gazed upon the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. With the exception of Cam, he'd normally favored blondes, but this woman's silky auburn hair was gorgeous. Her pale complexion was flawless, and then there were those incredibly blue eyes...the color was indescribably perfect. "Um...hi. I'm sorry. I guess I didn't see you. I'm Booth." He swallowed hard as she stared at him while she fumbled with her purse. "Do you believe in fate?"

"No, of course not. What a ridiculous question. Now, if you'll excuse me…" She turned from him and walked quickly away, leaving a dumbfounded Booth in her wake. Finally he remembered what he was supposed to be doing. After quickly using the facilities, he rushed back to the bar's main room.

"Where is she?" Booth stood next to Sully, scanning the room for the woman. "Did you see her? Tall...reddish brown hair...blue eyes...beautiful?"

Sully knew exactly who Booth was talking about, because he'd seen her, too. Her name was Temperance, and she'd come to tell Hannah and Marilyn that her boyfriend was coming to pick her up since she was in no shape to drive. She'd left with the man a few minutes before Booth came back to the table.

"That was Dr. Stires!", Hannah giggled. "She's dating her graduate advisor, and he's in his thirties! I think that's kinda creepy, don't you?"

"Yeah. I guess." Booth ran his fingers along the edge of the table, wondering how he could get in touch with the woman he'd just met. He desperately wanted to see her again. "What's Temperance's last name?"

"Brennan. She's Temperance Brennan, and she thinks she's going to be the world's best forensic anthropologist, whatever that is." Hannah smiled at the two men across from her. "Marilyn's gonna be a nurse, and I'm gonna be a journalist, but I don't know if we're gonna be the best in the world."

"That's great." There was more inane conversation over another drink. Finally Sully glanced at Booth, who nodded as he finished his beer. "Well, girls, me and my friend are gonna call it a night." He put two twenty dollar bills on the table. "Enjoy yourselves. Thanks for the company."

Leaving the bar, the two men walked quietly through the chilly Chicago night as they made their way back to their hotel, each one wishing he'd had a chance to get to know more about Temperance Brennan.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N:_ _we're going to experience a jump in time. Bones time seems to be fluid anyway, so it's easy to manipulate. By the way, I know Parker would be about 3 or 4 instead of 5 or 6, like I've made him in this version, but this story is AU. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it. Thanks. Laura_

* * *

 _April, 2004_

Discouraged. If Booth had to describe his feelings about his life after moving to DC, he'd have to say he was discouraged. Sure, he got to see his son more often, but it seemed he'd had a bit of trouble adjusting to the subtle differences between life in New York City and in the nation's capital. He was feeling a bit lonely, and the fact that he hadn't been promoted as quickly as he'd hoped within in the Major Crimes Division wasn't helping his disposition, either.

Fortunately, there was one place of solace for Booth...a place where he could always find comfort. That haven was the local pool hall, a nasty little hole in the wall joint called Dusty's. It probably wasn't the best place for an FBI agent to spend his spare time, but he figured that as long as he behaved himself, Director Santana wouldn't find out about his less than ideal hobby. Booth had discreetly hustled pool while he was in the Army, making enough money so that he had a nice bankroll saved up when he decided not to reenlist, and his habit had continued as he embraced civilian life. He knew that to some people it looked like he had a gambling problem, but since he normally won, he didn't see it that way. To him, it was just a way to blow off a little steam, and if he managed to make an extra hundred or two during the evening, so much the better.

Today, however, even though he'd won some cash the night before, he was still feeling discouraged. The office had called to tell him that Jocelyn Arrington was waiting to see him, and as much as he understood her need for closure, he really didn't want to talk to her this morning, especially since he had nothing new to tell her about the case. He tried to figure a way to avoid seeing her, but his conscience finally got the best of him, and he agreed to meet with her.

The poor woman was beside herself with grief. Her daughter's remains were being released for burial by the State of New York, which meant the investigation would close, and they'd never find out the truth of what happened to Gemma...about who had murdered her. Hearing that the New York coroner was in town gave Booth an idea. He'd see what he could do. Maybe they'd find some peace for Mrs. Arrington after all. He promised her that he'd do everything he could to get justice for her daughter.

Oooooooooo

Stopping by one of the restrooms at the Hoover, Booth sighed as he stared at his reflection in the mirror over one of the sinks. Looking at the dark circles under his eyes, the uncombed hair, and the stubble on his chin, it was pretty obvious he'd been up all night. He slapped some cold water on his face and tried to smooth out his wrinkled shirt before he went to find Camille Saroyan.

She wasn't impressed with his appearance. "I can tell you've been up all night, but I guess since you've won, so it doesn't matter, right?" She shrugged as they left the elevator. "I can give you the file on Gemma Arrington, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to get another perspective on the case. There's a scientist here in town that works with the Jeffersonian. She might be able to help you figure things out. From what I hear, she's the best in the field of forensic anthropology."

"No way, Cam. You know I don't partner up. Anyway, I don't need some damn squint sticking her nose in my business. Cops solve crimes, not scientists." Booth stuck out his chin defiantly. "I don't see why you can't give me a few more days before you close this case."

Handing Booth the file, Dr. Saroyan rolled her eyes. "Fine. Take a few more days, but it won't do you any good. The whole thing is at a standstill. There's nothing new to be found. Might as well just give up, Booth. Let me know when you're ready to throw in the towel so I can mark this case as closed." She turned and walked back toward the elevator.

After briefly looking through the file, Booth realized he had nothing new to go on, and he was desperate. He was going to need some help if he hoped to keep his promise to Mrs. Arrington, so he ran to catch the elevator. "Hey, Cam...what was that scientist's name?"

"Temperance Brennan. Call the Jeffersonian, and they'll tell you where to find her." Flashing a smile, Cam winked at her friend. "Good luck."

 _Temperance Brennan?_ Booth hesitated for a few seconds. _Why does that name sound so familiar?_ He thought about it as he took the elevator down to the parking garage, but his lack of sleep was doing a number on his memory. _I mean, why would I know a famous scientist anyway? I must've heard her name on the news or something…probably on one of the television reality shows…maybe it was Shark Week or something like that..._

He called the Jeffersonian, asking for her, and found that she was lecturing at American University that day. After a little bit of searching, he found the lecture hall he'd been looking for and quietly walked in.

After about 30 seconds he realized he was standing in the back of a classroom, staring at the lecturer with his mouth hanging open in surprise. It was her...Temperance Brennan was the woman he'd dreamed about ever since he'd seen her in that Chicago bar several years ago. He wasn't sure how he could've forgotten her name, but he'd never forgotten that face.

She was the picture of confidence as she lectured her students about defleshing techniques that would preserve the evidence on a set of bones. She walked around the room gracefully as she explained the importance of maintaining the pristine condition of the skeleton, and Booth was mesmerized. She was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen...maybe even more so now that she was thoroughly engaged in her presentation instead looking like a shy little deer caught in some scary headlights.

The lecture was intriguing as well. Stripping the body of flesh to look for evidence seemed to go against every law enforcement instinct Booth had, and after the students left, he found himself drawn to the scientist, wanting to ask questions...wanting to know more, not just about her, but about what she did with the bones as she searched for evidence.

"So, Dr. Brennan, you're saying that even poison or drowning would leave evidence on bones? I find that hard to believe…", he began, not really sure what to say so he'd have an excuse to talk to this woman.

"I know that it's hard for the average person to believe, but it's true. A world class forensic anthropologist such as myself would be able to see changes in the structure of the bone matrix if the poison was administered over a long period of time. Nicks on the bones can indicate where injections might have occurred. Staining on the bone can indicate where a person was injured. For example, hemorrhagic staining indicates whether an artery or vein has been compromised. Drowning can leave microscopic evidence in bone marrow. It's actually quite simple if one knows what to look for…"

"Yeah, okay." Booth nodded slowly, stunned as he realized the brilliance of the anthropologist. He wondered if someone of average intelligence like him even deserved to have a discussion with her. "From what I understand, these techniques can be applied to old skeletons as well. I heard that you solved a 4000 year old cold case just by looking at the bones."

Brennan was clearly surprised at that the man in front of her knew this, but by the way he was able to follow her explanations, he was much more than just a handsome face. "That's true...he'd been stabbed multiple times. There was evidence of wounds made by a crude stone implement on the dorsal aspect of his ribs and thoracic spine." She eyed him suspiciously. "Are you some sort of reporter? I don't give interviews without prior appointments…"

"Oh, no. Sorry." He smiled as he pulled out his badge. "I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth. I work for the FBI…" He nervously shifted from one foot to another. "...and I need some help with a case…"

Studying the man carefully, Brennan's eidetic memory kicked in, and she smiled. "I think we've met before, haven't we, Agent Booth? It was many years ago, in a bar in Chicago…"

"Yeah. I literally bumped into you at the Green Mill Lounge. You were coming out of the ladies' room as I was heading for the mens' room." Hesitating a bit, he chuckled softly. "I'm surprised you remember me...I thought you told those girls you were with that you'd had too much to drink. If you were buzzed, it'd be hard to remember something like bumping into me."

She smiled shyly. "It would be difficult to forget a face that is as symmetrical as yours, Agent Booth, especially since you bear a striking resemblance to your ancestor, John Wilkes Booth…"

"I really don't want to talk about him, okay?", Booth interrupted. "It bothers me too much…you know, because of what he did..."

"Oh, I see. Well, we can't help who our ancestors are, so there's really no reason to be ashamed of having comparable bone structure." Brennan moved to her podium to pick up her notes. "Anyway, I had told my companions that I was intoxicated because I no longer wanted to spend time with them. I found those girls to be shallow, inane, and quite immature. They weren't at the bar to spend time with me so they could get to know me better. They just needed someone older to buy their drinks for them, even though it would still be illegal for them to imbibe. Their goal was to get drunk enough so they would lose their inhibitions in order to seek sexual gratification with someone they didn't know. That's why I called someone to come pick me up."

"Your boyfriend?" Booth cringed, hating the sound of that word, but he couldn't believe this remarkable woman would still be single after all this time.

"Dr. Stires was my romantic interest at the time, but we are no longer involved since I've taken the position at the Jeffersonian." She put her papers in her briefcase and picked up her purse. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"

"Wait a minute, Doc. I said I needed some help, remember?" Booth tried to move in front of the scientist so she couldn't leave, but she was too quick for him, and she walked away quickly so that he practically had to chase her down the aisle between the rows of seats. "I'm at a dead end on a cold case, and I thought maybe you could help me with it."

"What kind of cold case?" Brennan turned around to look at the agent. "Is it a missing person, or is it unidentified remains? I've helped close many of those cases."

"No, I actually know who this person is, and I know she was murdered, but I'm having a hard time proving who the perp is. I've got a pretty good idea that it was a federal judge, but there isn't much concrete evidence against him, so we can't even get a warrant to search his car."

"I won't manufacture evidence just so some special agent can get a conviction under his belt." Brennan glared at him, shaking her head as she continued to walk away. "I only work with facts...things that can actually be seen or measured."

"Oh, I completely understand, and I would never ask you to fake anything like that." Booth sensed that the scientist might be interested, so he pushed a bit harder, upping the ante by adding a bit of angst. "The victim's mother is still looking for justice for her daughter, even though everyone else has given up on finding the murderer." He sighed softly as he shrugged at Brennan. "I'm just not ready to give up yet. I want to make sure I've done everything I can to help that woman find some peace. I promised her I'd do my best to find out who killed her daughter. I was told that you might be able to help me, but if you don't want to, that's okay." He shoved his hands in his pocket, trying to act nonchalant. "Thanks for talking to me. It was really interesting, learning about bones and all."

Brennan hesitated, turning to look at the special agent. "I never said I didn't want to help you. What I said was I wouldn't twist the truth to make the evidence fit into some preconceived notion you might have about who committed the crime. We would have to conduct the investigation as if you had no idea about the identity of the perpetrator."

Booth thought over Brennan's demands for a few seconds, realizing how hard that would be for him, especially since he knew in his heart who had committed the murder. However, he also realized he'd be willing to do almost anything to spend more time with this beautiful, brilliant woman. "Okay, you've got a deal."

"Excellent. Please have the file delivered to my office first thing in the morning." Brennan turned to leave, but Booth wasn't willing to let her go quite yet.

"If you have time, why don't we just go to my office and look over it there? That way you can look at all the evidence we've gathered as well."

She glanced at her watch. "That will be acceptable."

"Good." He grinned at her as they left the lecture hall together. "It's weird, right? Whoever thought that running into you outside of a restroom so many years ago might lead to us working together one day, trying to solve a murder together."

Brennan nodded in agreement. "It is quite a coincidence."

"Coincidence? Does that mean you still don't believe in fate?"

"Of course not. The concept of fate is ludicrous. It was just random chance that brought us back together after all these years." She rolled her eyes at his silly grin. "What?"

He laughed as they walked toward his car. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's random chance, or maybe it's fate, but either way, I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N:_ _Another time jump. Because we're going back and forth this story may not seem linear, but Bones time doesn't always make sense anyway, it seems. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it._

* * *

July, 1998

Walking into the Technology Institute building on the Northwestern campus one Wednesday morning, Temperance Brennan was somewhat annoyed. Her thesis advisor, Dr. Stires, had requested that she assist another professor, Dr. Emerson, with his engineering summer program for high school students. She shook her head as she scolded herself for not being better at standing up to Michael's whims and wiles. It seemed that she always ended up doing whatever he needed, whether she actually wanted to do it or not. This time he'd seem to have little problem with loaning out his graduate assistant to someone else who temporarily needed an extra hand, and it evidently never occurred to him that she might say no.

Michael was going to be away from the campus for a few weeks while he visited his ailing mother, and working for two weeks at this summer program would provide Brennan some extra cash. However, after hearing the commotion coming from the lab as she approached the door, Temperance began to wonder if there was enough cash in the world to make this experience worthwhile.

Approximately twenty adolescent boys were standing in the aisle between the lab tables, cheering wildly as two toy cars raced down a race track.

"I win!" A slightly built boy picked up his car and grinned at the rest of the class. "Does anyone else wish to challenge me?"

Groaning in unison, the rest of the boys grumbled as they turned away and moved back to the lab tables. Coughing slightly, Dr. Emerson tried to gain their attention.

"It seems, gentlemen, that Mr. Addy's design for his car is indeed superior. As engineers, your task is to find a way to make a vehicle that can win a race against his. Engineers solve problems like this on a regular basis. If they didn't, we'd all be driving Edsels today. I suggest you reconsider your car's size, Mr. Stern. Perhaps it needs to be smaller."

"No fair! Why should I have to do all that work to win some stupid race?", the boy whined. "I'm not a genius like Wacky Zacky."

"Yeah, we want to have fun, not obsess about how to make a toy car go faster.", complained another budding engineer.

"I believe you both understood what was involved in this Engineering Summer Institute when you applied for acceptance. The selection process was quite extensive, and only the best candidates were chosen from a large pool of applicants. However, if you're unwilling to participate in the manner directed, Mr. Stern, you may be sent home at any time." Seeing that his point had been made, Dr. Emerson cleared his throat slightly as he turned toward Brennan. "Now, I'd like to introduce Ms. Brennan, who will be assisting us for the rest of this week."

Upon seeing the attractive young woman in front of them, almost all of the boys decided they needed some extra help with their designs, and they clamored to have Brennan's assistance at their tables as they attempted to make their modifications. She helped them as much as she could, pointing out small flaws that might affect aerodynamics or reminding them of the Laws of Motion and how those laws might affect the speed of the car. She couldn't help noticing, however, that the boy with the winning design worked quietly by himself without requesting any additional help. He seemed extremely focused on the task at hand, determined to make his car better, even though it seemed he'd won every race he'd entered.

Soon it was time for the lunch break, so the boys noisily charged out of the class and ran to the cafeteria...all except Zack, who kept working diligently. Approaching him quietly, Brennan paused, not wishing to startle him. "Excuse me, Zack, but it's time for lunch…"

"I realize that, but thank you for reminding me. Occasionally I get really involved in my work and I forget to eat." The boy looked up from his car and shrugged. "I have very little in common with the rest of the people in class, so I usually sit by myself in the cafeteria to avoid interacting with them. They seem to enjoy taunting me about my age and small stature, or about my high intelligence quotient, and I find that to be uncomfortable, so I choose to avoid them. It makes more sense to me to go get my lunch and bring it back here so I can continue to work."

"I see." Sighing softly, Brennan nodded in understanding. "Bullying like that can be most upsetting."

"You are correct in your assessment." Zack shrugged as he took some measurements on his model. "However, I am finding great satisfaction in racing my car and beating the wheels off of the inferior cars built by the other members of the program. It pleases me to know that I'm better than they are at something."

"I understand." Brennan smiled at the boy as he worked. "Being a genius myself, I know it can be difficult being so much more intelligent than the people you have to work with…"

Surprised at her statement, Zack offered a shy grin. "My parents believed that allowing me to attend this summer program would encourage me to interact more positively with my peers, but I find that I'm extremely competitive, and it seems as if I have no wish to interact with them at all. Intellectually, these people are not close to being my peers. I'm far superior to them in intelligence and maturity."

Pulling up a lab stool, Brennan watched the boy work on his car. "I've often felt the same way in these sorts of circumstances, but it seems that in the real world people like us often have to work with others to complete an assigned task, even if we find their intellectual deficits annoying." She regarded Zack with interest. "Will you be attending college soon?"

"I have to be at least fifteen to attend most universities, so I have to wait two more years. I was disappointed to hear that, but that time period will probably allow me enough time to decide where to place my focus. Right now I'm torn between mechanical engineering and anthropology. I'd like to go to MIT, but I'm unsure as to whether or not they would be able to have the sort of plan of study that I'm interested in. It may be that I decide to study both forensic science and engineering at the same time." Zack glanced at his watch as he put his car in its box. "The crowd should be cleared from the cafeteria by now, so I'm going to get some lunch."

"Of course. I'll talk to you later." Brennan smiled to herself as Zack left the lab. She could easily relate to his feelings of frustration and annoyance at having to work with people of average intelligence, especially when those people found it necessary to be bullies in order to maintain the upper hand in the relationship. It wasn't easy to adapt to those situations. As she took a bite of her sandwich, she sighed softly, hoping the brilliant boy would be able to find someone to mentor him through the challenges he faced as he grew to be an adult.

Oooooooooo

December, 2003

Looking through stacks of internship applications was tedious, but the dean of the anthropology had made it clear that Brennan was required to mentor an intern as part of her faculty responsibilities. Unfortunately, it appeared that none of the applicants had met the stringent requirements she'd established for the position. She looked through another few papers, sighing as she put them in the discard pile. Scanning through another, she was impressed with the level of education that the man had attained. Glancing at the name, she smiled happily, knowing the intern problem was solved. Zack Addy would be a perfect fit for the job. She wondered if he'd remember her, but even if he didn't, she knew the Jeffersonian would be the right place for him to learn to be a scientist and to grow as a person.

Oooooooooo

September, 2005

"I suppose you're going to tell me this is all a matter of fate." Brennan glared at the SUV's driver before turning to stare at the scenery rushing by. "You just happened to show up at the airport at just the right time to rescue me from being arrested by Homeland Security, all because of some previously established cosmic plan." Irritated with the situation, she pointed to the sidewalk next to the road. "You can let me out anywhere along here."

"Look, I'm trying to mend bridges here, okay?" Booth flashed a blazing charm smile at his passenger. "I've called your office several times, but your intern keeps stonewalling me."

"Zack is an excellent intern, Booth. I've told him to reject all of your calls. Under no circumstances was he to allow you to talk to me." Crossing her arms over her chest, Brennan was resolute. "Let me out of this car now."

"Yeah, I get it. Zack's a good watch dog, right? That's why I called Dr. Goodman to find out where you were. I need some help on a case, and I was determined to find you." Inhaling deeply, Booth braced himself for the tempest that was bound to occur.

"So you went over my head and talked to my supervisor? And then, in an obvious abuse of your position as a federal agent, you put out a 'hold for questioning' bulletin on me, knowing that Homeland Security would be awaiting my arrival at the airport? You had me arrested?" Furious, Brennan turned toward Booth. "And then you have the gall to tell me that you need my help on a case? Go to hell, Booth. If you don't let me out of this car in thirty seconds, I'm going to scream 'kidnap' out the window. I'm sure your superiors would frown on the notion that you unlawfully detained an innocent American citizen for your own personal benefit."

"If you'd just hear me out…", Booth interrupted as he pulled his car into a parking place. "...look, I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot again...wait, where are you going?" Jogging after Brennan as she exited the car and quickly crossed the street, he called after her. "Can't we just skip this part? I really need your help on this one…"

She turned to stare at him with her hands on her hips. "So you just want to use my intelligence to make your life easier, right? This has nothing to do with what happened between us last year? You don't mind using my brain to get what you want, correct? And what would make you think I'd want to work with a stupid man like you again? Do you really think I'm that desperate for things to occupy my time?"

"Yes...um, I mean, no...I mean...Jesus, Bones." Frustrated, Booth jogged after her again as she walked away. "Look, it's another cold case, okay? There were some remains found at Arlington National Cemetery…"

"Hardly a surprise, since it's a cemetery…", Brennan scoffed, picking up her pace. "You'll have to do better than that, Booth."

"What's it gonna take, Bones? I need you to help me solve this case...not for me so much, but more for her parents. They need to see justice done. What do I need to do?"

"Full participation in the case." Turning to face him, Brennan stuck out her chin defiantly, daring him to argue with her. "For everything, not just the lab work. I mean field work, too. If you need my help, I need to be involved in every aspect of the case, and I'll need Zack and the other scientists at the Jeffersonian to assist us as well."

Without hesitating, Booth agreed, knowing that he wouldn't be able to solve this case successfully without the scientist. "You got it. We're Mulder and Scully. Now, please get back into the car, okay?"

Satisfied that she'd won this round, Brennan nodded as she walked back to the car. "By the way, I don't know what that means. Who are Mulder and Scully?"

"It's not important. Let's go to the cemetery to see the remains, okay?" Breathing a sigh of relief, Booth started the SUV.

"Fine. I'll call Zack so he can meet us there."

"Great. I can't wait to meet him in person.", Booth commented sarcastically as he pulled out into traffic.

Oooooooooo

Zack Addy glared at the man accompanying his mentor at the crime scene. "I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan. I tried to prevent Agent Booth from contacting you, but he's quite persistent."

"It's not your fault, Zack. Booth called Dr. Goodman for the information he needed about how to get in touch with me." Brennan pulled on some exam gloves. "I'm not upset with you."

"Good." Staring coldly at the agent, Zack shrugged. "If you find he's bothering you with his presence, I can take care of it."

Rolling his eyes at the silliness of Zack's challenge, Booth smirked at the young intern. "Oh yeah? You and what army, squint boy?"

"I'm quite adept at many forms of martial arts, and your superior strength would be overcome by my agility, so that I wouldn't need an army to defeat you. However, even if I did need assistance from a combat unit, I'm sure my superior intellect would provide a satisfactory strategy to allow me to easily win any battle against you." Zack picked up the equipment bags from the back of the Jeffersonian van and followed Brennan to the edge of a small pond. "As Dr. Brennan's intern, it's my responsibility to assist her in any way she might desire, even if it means removing people from a crime scene who might be bothering her."

"Thank you, Zack, but I don't believe it'll be necessary for you to inflict any physical harm on Agent Booth. Besides, I'm quite capable of taking care of myself should the need to inflict injury arise." Brennan shook her head as she pointed to the water's edge. "We have work to do. Let's not worry about who the alpha male is under these circumstances."

"Damn squint…", Booth mumbled under his breath as he watched Zack set up some equipment. "...thinks he's so smart…"

"Zack thinks he's smart, Booth, because he is smart. Actually, he's brilliant. His IQ is well into the exceptional range. He's a genius." Brennan boarded the small boat on the edge of the pond. "If you want me to work with you on this case, you'll have to accept Zack's participation on the case as well. Consider it part of your bridge mending."

"Okay, fine...whatever." Booth shrugged as he stepped on the boat, hiding his small smile from Brennan. Accepting that Bones had a pet squint was a small price to pay for enticing her to work with him again, even if it meant being nice to the oddball who worked for her. "Let's go look at the remains."


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: just a reminder that even though I'm sort of following the time line of the show, this story is AU. If you have time to leave a review, I'd appreciate it._

* * *

Fall, 2006

Booth grumbled to himself as he took off his jacket and draped it over the back of his desk chair before sitting down. Out of habit he reached up to pat his holster to check his gun, pausing as he mentally kicked himself one more time. Of course his gun wasn't there. He'd had to surrender it to Deputy Director Stephens a couple of hours ago after trying to explain once again why he'd shot up the mechanical clown that was minding its own business on top of an ice cream truck. Because he'd been so bothered by the loud music coming from the speaker in the clown's head, it had seemed to be a perfectly logical thing to do at the time, but now, looking back at the incident, he had to acknowledge to himself that perhaps he'd overreacted just a little bit.

"Think so, jackass? Way to be the hero, right? Out there protecting the world from killer clowns, right?" Shaking his head as he remembered the shock on his partner's face, Booth pulled out his phone and read Brennan's text one more time. Their case in Florida still needed to be solved, so right now she was on her way to Miami without him. As it if wasn't enough punishment to suspend Booth, the Deputy Director had made it Booth's responsibility to find a replacement to work the case with her while he was on suspension until he could get the FBI shrink to sign the form saying that he wasn't really nutso for firing his weapon in a public area like that.

Looking through a list of possible subs, Booth sighed as he tried to determine the best choice for his replacement. He needed someone experienced to work with Bones...someone who wouldn't mind putting up with her rather condescending manner. He was used to her abruptness by now, but he knew most agents thought her to be an overbearing and snobbish holy terror. By now he knew better. What came across as rudeness was just her extreme focus on the task at hand. His substitute needed to be someone easy going...someone who wouldn't upset the delicate balance Booth had been cultivating while partnering with Brennan.

Shrugging as he checked the list again, it also occurred to him that he might also want to avoid some of the notorious skirt chasers who worked with him. Even though Brennan was just his partner, and there wasn't anything romantic going on between them, it seemed unwise to tempt fate by putting her in the pathway of some predatory agent who might want to take advantage of his Bones' status as a single woman. Looking through the list again, it didn't appear that there were any female agents available, but when he got to the end of the page, he came upon a solution...he'd ask his old friend Sully to help out.

Sully had recently transferred to the DC field office after the loss of his partner in a drug raid gone wrong. The poor guy had taken Agent Leo Parnell's death badly, especially since Parnell had been called in at the last minute to fill in for someone who'd been sidelined with a sudden, severe case of food poisoning. It was a horrible example of 'wrong place, wrong, time', and Sully was still dealing with the guilt of not taking the job instead. He'd told Booth everything...how he'd turned down the assignment because he was 'ill', when, in fact, he was actually nursing a bad hangover after a whirlwind one night stand. It had taken months for Sully to be able to get over the idea that he'd caused his partner's death, and finally, after several meetings with the shrink in the New York field office, it was suggested that a change in scenery might do him some good.

 _And maybe another change might be even better for him,_ Booth thought as he called Sully's office. "Hey, Sul, it's Booth. Can you come by my office? Thanks."

Sighing softly, Sully went strolling down the hall to Booth's office. It was a slight irritation to realize that if he'd played his cards differently, he might be sitting in Booth's spot, being the Special Agent in Charge instead of his buddy, but that wasn't the way things worked out. He wondered if this annoyance was what it would take to finally move him in a different direction...maybe this would be the impetus it'd take to make him do something different with his life. He knocked on the door frame of the office. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yeah...have a seat." Booth rocked back in his chair, trying to seem nonchalant. "I was wondering if you'd consider doing me a favor."

Slightly suspicious, Sully narrowed his eyes at the man across the desk from him. "You want me to do you a favor? What...you got an ugly sister who needs a date?"

"Nah." Booth tried to smile as ran his hand across his face. "Look, I got suspended for discharging my weapon in public in an indiscriminate manner, okay? But I'd already been assigned a case, and I need someone to fill in for me. It's in Florida, which isn't too bad, right? My partner...she's already on the way there. You could be there in a few hours…"

Pursing his lips, Sully shifted slightly in his chair. He knew Booth was probably trying to do him a favor by offering him a chance to get out of the office for a while, but there seemed to be something else going on...something he couldn't quite put his finger on. "So you got grounded to your office, right? And you need me to clean up the mess you got yourself in? That's rich, Booth…" Laughing sarcastically, Sully nodded slightly. "Your partner's a woman? Is she hot? Or are you sticking me with somebody's grandma?"

"She's very attractive, but I don't see what that has to do with it. She's a forensic anthropologist. She helps identify badly damaged remains for the Bureau." Booth suddenly felt irritated. There shouldn't be any reason for him to feel like he needed to defend his partnership with Bones. "Look, do you want the job, or not? Because if you don't, I need to find someone who does, okay? I'm about out of time here…"

"Yeah, I'll go. Might as well. I got nothin' else goin' on here." Sully shrugged as he rose from his seat. "How soon do you need me down there?"

Booth scrolled through a page on his computer. "The next flight leaves in a couple of hours. Can you make it?"

"No problem. I'll go throw some stuff in a bag." Sully offered up a small smile. "Hey, thanks, Booth. I appreciate you thinking of me…"

"Don't mention it. Just take care of my partner, okay? You know, make sure she doesn't work too hard."

"You got it." Waving as he left the office, Sully jogged over to the elevator.

Feeling another wave of regret, Booth sighed audibly. The sooner he could get back to work with his partner, the sooner he'd like it.

Oooooooooo

Leaning against the side of the large sedan in the tropical heat, Sully wondered if Booth had really done him a favor by offering him this case. He was hot, tired, and bored as he watched the game warden and the state police officers try to wrestle the alligator carcass out of the swamp, and he vowed that he'd get back at Booth for this sorry state of affairs one way or the other. Not only was he wasting time, but Booth's partner was a no show, and from the state of the remains they'd found, they needed her help ASAP. Where the hell was she?

His mind kept wandering back to that sweet yacht he'd seen on the way to the crime scene. He really wanted to check it out...he was daydreaming about sailing the Caribbean...of getting away from the daily grind of the FBI, and that little beauty might just be the ticket...

Finally another car pulled up, and the driver quickly hopped out. After retrieving her bags from the trunk, she purposefully strode towards the remains of the gator. Sully couldn't believe his eyes. Was this Booth's partner? The beautiful woman he'd seen all those years ago in the Green Mill Lounge...she was actually Booth's partner. Maybe this case wouldn't be so bad after all.

Or so he thought, until she opened her mouth and began to scold him for being a lazy bum.

"I'm Agent Tim Sullivan, but everybody calls me Sully. The gator's Eugene. And who might you be?"

"Dr. Temperance Brennan." She regarded him suspiciously. "Are you here to take Booth's place in this investigation? I thought he said it would only take a day or two to get the ice cream truck incident sorted out."

"I don't know about the truck deal, but he wanted me to work this case with you, so here I am." Gazing off toward the pond, Sully shrugged as he turned back to the scientist squatting next to the enormous dead animal. "Although I don't know why you'd need me. It looks like between the state police and you, things are pretty well under control."

"Why are you just standing around? This is a body dump, correct? Maybe you should assist the police officers in gathering evidence from the crime scene, like any extant footprints, or you could take notes on the conditions in which we found this reptile. Booth always helps with the remains, cataloging details of what we find in situ.", she said with a condescending glare.

"Yeah, but Booth doesn't know how to relax." Sully smirked as he watched the woman stick her arm down the dead gator's throat. "He never knows when to quit."

"Perhaps that's why he's the Special Agent in Charge and you are not, Agent Sullivan." She held up a gold locket which she'd extricated from the animal's gullet. "I need this animal transported back to the Jeffersonian. I'm sure we'll find more evidence in its digestive tract."

"You're gonna need a lot of ice." Sully smiled at Brennan as she wiped her hands on her coveralls. "Well, if we're through here, I'm gonna go check out a boat I saw…"

"Perhaps it will sink while you're trying it out. Of course, no more help than you've been, it won't really be a loss, will it?" Brennan glared at the man standing before her, wondering why he seemed vaguely familiar. "Have we met before, Agent Sullivan? It seems that I've encountered your juvenile sense of humor in some sort of past social situation."

"As a matter of fact, Dr. Brennan, we have...at the Green Mill Lounge in Chicago, many years ago. I was with Booth, and you were with some girlfriends…"

"Hmm. Obviously I didn't find you worth remembering. I remembered Booth quite easily when I met him again years later." Standing with her hands on her hips, she turned to a state police detective. "Ship this animal to the Jeffersonian. I'll meet you back at the state police headquarters, Agent Sullivan."

"Whatever you want, Dr. Brennan." Sully watched her walk away, his mind full of questions. _How did Booth manage to make such a good impression on her? How can I make the same good impression? And how can I steal her away from Booth?_

Oooooooooo

Thoroughly frustrated that he couldn't convince Dr. Wyatt to sign his get out of jail paper, Booth snarled as he answered his phone a few days later. "BOOTH!"

"Oh…", a small, scared voice responded. "Booth? Are you okay? When are you coming to Florida?"

"Bones? Sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you." He sighed as he sat down heavily in his chair. "I don't know when or if I'll get there. By the time I get this stupid shrink to sign my goddamn paper, you and Sully will probably have the case sewn up." He paused, unsure of how he felt about his next question. "Things are going okay with Sully, right?"

"They are now. It took us a while to get used to each other, very much like when you and I first started working together. We're doing all the things you and I normally do on a case…"

"I see. Well, you may have to give him the benefit of the doubt on some of that stuff. He's really a nice guy, but he's been kind of out of sorts since his partner was killed in the line of duty. He's being professional, right? He's treating you well?"

"Of course." Brennan hesitated a bit. "Can Sully really do all the things he says he can do? Is he really trained as an EMT? I have to admit, I was most impressed with his scientific vocabulary and his knowledge of the human skeletal system." Brennan giggled slightly. "He said he'd never used that knowledge to impress a lady before."

Booth was furious. _That son of a bitch is trying to steal my partner...and maybe my friend..._ Taking a deep breath, he tried to be calm. "Well, don't get too attached to Sully. You're still gonna be my partner, Bones. This is just a temporary assignment for him. We'll be back to normal soon, okay?"

"Yes, I understand. Oh, I have to go. Sully and I are going to interview a suspect. Bye."

Staring at his phone after she ended the call, Booth bit his lip, wondering if Brennan had really believed all the garbage he'd told her about there being a line they couldn't cross together. He hoped not...

Oooooooooo

The case was wrapped up, and Sully was quite pleased with himself. Not only did they get the doer, but he figured he might have gotten something even more interesting out of the deal. He glanced at Dr. Brennan as they waited for their flight back to DC, appreciating once again just how beautiful she was. "So, what do you and Booth usually do when you solve a case? Do you go out for pizza? Maybe knock back a few cold ones?"

"We usually go to a place called the Royal Diner. I have a cup of tea, and Booth has coffee and a piece of apple pie. I don't like pie, because I don't like cooked fruit. It's too sweet and mushy for me." Brennan grinned shyly at Sully. "What do you do when you complete an investigation?"

"Oh, it depends on who my partner is." He gave her a flirty wink. "Say, since we aren't really going to be partners any more, maybe I could take you out for a piece of pie. There's more kinds of pie than just apple, you know? I bet you'd like pecan pie, especially if it's warm with a little bit of vanilla ice cream on top." Pretending to look over his itinerary, he shrugged. "Of course, we might have to wait a few days, to give our minds time to adjust to the idea that we're not actually working together. That way we could have a different sort of relationship...if we wanted to, that is. I mean, I know you weren't all that impressed with me after our first meeting in Chicago all those years ago, but it seems I've grown on you a bit."

Rolling her eyes at Sully's cocky attitude, Brennan laughed. "You may be correct. It appears that my first impression of you wasn't valid. However, I don't really need to wait a few days for my mind to adjust to having a different sort of relationship with you. I'm able to adapt very quickly. I'll just text Booth and let him know you'll give me a ride home from the airport. Will that be satisfactory, Sully?"

"Works for me, Tempe. Tell him I said 'hi', okay?" Sully smiled to himself. Seeley Booth might be Special Agent in Charge of his division, but Tim Sullivan was going to be the Special Agent in Charge of Temperance Brennan's heart, and he figured that might be just the thing to thoroughly frustrate his old buddy once and for all.

Oooooooooo

Booth stared at Brennan's text on his phone, not quite believing what he was seeing.

 ** _Don't worry about picking me up at the airport. Sully will give me a ride home tonight. You were right. He's very nice. He says 'hi'._**

He lay in his darkened bedroom, staring at the ceiling as he considered how much his bad temper and impulsive behavior might actually have cost him. Had he lost his Bones for good? Had Sully stolen her heart right out from under him? And did he really have a right to be jealous about that? Bones was just his partner...wasn't she? It wasn't like he was in love with her, right?

Sighing as he turned over in bed, he realized the truth. Bones had never been 'just his partner'. She'd probably been more than 'just a partner' from the moment he'd laid eyes on her in that Chicago bar all those years ago. He finally admitted it to himself. He was in love with Temperance Brennan.

Unfortunately for him, that realization might've come a little too late.

* * *

 _A/N 2: Yes, there is some angst, but eventually there will be a happy ending...Laura._


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: this is the Hannah chapter of the story, in case you want to avoid it. If you do read, and have time to review, I'd appreciate it._

* * *

 _Fall, 2010_

The thrum of the jet engines had almost lulled Booth to sleep. It had already been a long day, and he was exhausted as he began the final leg of his journey home.

He drifted between sleep and wakefulness, spending some time in that place where a person's not quite sure of what's real and what isn't. He closed his eyes, wanting to recapture the pleasant dream he'd been enjoying, when her voice intruded into his thoughts again.

"Booth? Booth, are you going to meet me at the coffee cart? You promised you would meet me there when you got home..."

Startled, he shook off his sleep and looked around the plane's cabin. _It was just a dream, right? Of course Bones isn't here. I wonder when she's getting back from that dig in the Makipulu Islands…if she's coming back to help out Cam..._

He'd hoped by now that he would've broken that habit, but it seemed Bones was still an integral part of his life, whether he wanted her to be or not. Over the past few years, she'd been the first thing Booth thought about when he woke up in the morning and the last thing he thought about before he fell asleep at night. She'd been as constant in his life as the sunrise...until now, that is. Now it seemed that things in his life were in a constant state of upheaval.

After Sully had sailed away for the Caribbean, leaving Brennan standing on the pier as she sadly waved goodbye, things between the special agent and the forensic anthropologist had settled into a pleasant routine. They'd worked together as partners and friends, spending most of their time together even when they didn't have a case. Booth had quickly realized what he'd almost lost to his footloose friend, and he also knew that he wanted a different sort of relationship with Bones, especially since she asked him to father a child for her. It was a crazy idea, but he'd do anything for her. He loved her, and he had hoped she'd eventually come to feel the same way about him. However, he didn't want to push her too hard, because he knew if she detected one whiff of pressure being applied to her emotional well being she'd be running away from him in a panic. He thought they'd have time enough to slowly work things out between them, but his damn brain tumor had thoroughly fucked up his plans.

Booth shook his head as he tried to get comfortable in his narrow seat. That goddamn coma dream had seemed so real at the time...so real he could actually believe it was true. He remembered looking into Bones' beautiful blue eyes and thinking how lucky he was to be married to her...and then how devastated he was as he realized how wrong he'd been. His dreamy paradise with Brennan had been merely the result of his brain's distaste for anesthetics. His heart was crushed by the weight of that reality, and he grieved not only for what he lost, but for what might never be.

He'd pretended to recover from his terrible disappointment in the months following his surgery, trying to act like he was fine with the way things were between them, but to no avail. Once he'd had a taste of what it would feel like to be Bones' husband, there could be no return to the way things had been between them before his brain tumor had been discovered. It was impossible for him to let go of that dream. He knew he wasn't going to be content with merely working with her every day. He wanted her to be involved in every aspect of his life. He wanted that connection he'd felt in his dream to be real and permanent. He couldn't settle for anything less. They were supposed to be together, right? Why couldn't she see that? Why did she reject the idea of them being a couple? After all, it was fate, right?

Maybe...or maybe not. Smiling to himself, he thought about the woman he'd left behind in Afghanistan. He'd had an epiphany when Hannah had told him she loved him. For years Booth had thought the only woman who'd really be able to accept him for himself, warts and all, was Temperance Brennan. Now he realized that it was possible for another woman not only to find him physically attractive, but lovable as well.

He sat back in his seat and gazed out the window, watching the clouds drift by as he remembered how he'd met Hannah…

Oooooooooo

He and his group of Afghan trainees were on patrol in some nameless village as he attempted to instill some military readiness into them. It was just another day in the third circle of hell...hot, dusty, and miserable as they trudged along down a narrow street off the main road, tired and dangerously bored from a lack of action. Worried that his men were beginning to be careless in their lethargy, and hoping to get everybody back home in one piece, Booth was about to give the order to withdraw when he saw a woman, who was obviously an American, audaciously stroll across the square toward a tearoom as if it was no big deal that she was begging to be shot by someone watching from one of the rooftops above.

"Son of a bitch." Mashing his helmet down on his head, Booth turned to his second in command. "Ibrahim...cover me!" Running across the square, he tackled the woman, knocking her over as a sniper's bullet kicked up some dirt behind him. Dragging her out of the way as Ibrahim took out the sniper, Booth glared down at the slender blond interloper.

"Just what in the fucking hell do you think you're doing, lady? If we hadn't come along when we did, you'd be a goddamn corpse. This is no man's land, okay? No one cares who the hell you are here, alright? They can't wait to take out any American who enters their territory, for Christ's sake, and you can't just go walking down the sidewalk like you're doing some fucking window shopping. This ain't no fucking Beverly Hills, okay?" Breathing hard from the combination of exertion and adrenaline, he panted heavily as he tried to make sure she was okay. Having her respond with a throaty chuckle after he'd almost been killed while pushing her out of the way of danger was more than he could stand. Soon he was furiously telling her exactly what he thought of her stupidity. "You think it's okay to put these men in danger so we can save your sorry little ass? Of all the selfish ideas...you really don't get it do you? How fucking stupid are you?"

Even the stalwart Ibrahim blushed at the profanity laced tirade Booth let loose on the woman. It was hard to imagine that his calm American commander would talk like that to any woman, let alone a beautiful one, and finally the man felt it was necessary to interrupt, hoping to keep his squad leader from having a stroke.

"Please, Sergeant Booth...it is not necessary to yell at the lady…", the Afghan soldier began. "I am sure it is just a misunderstanding…"

The blond woman was startled when she heard the name. Turning to look closely at the American sergeant, she studied him for a few seconds. "Seeley Booth? Is it really you? I thought you looked kind of familiar, but it's hard to tell exactly what you look like under all that gear." Seeing his blank stare, she grinned as she shook her head. "I know you don't remember me, but I sure remember the first time I met you. It was at the Green Mill Lounge in Chicago...I guess it was about eight years ago or so. You were there with some other guy, and I was there with a couple of girlfriends…I thought you were so hot...for an older guy, that is...I'm Hannah...Hannah Burley..."

"Sorry, lady…" Booth shook his head slightly. The only thing he really remembered about the Green Mill Lounge was seeing Bones for the first time that evening. After a few seconds of thinking things over, a small smile began to creep across his face. "Okay, now I remember. You and your friend were chattin' up me and my friend, right? But me and Sully were worried about you girls being underage, so we decided to look for our fun somewhere else." Seeing Ibrahim's confusion over the conversation, Booth changed the subject. "We need to get out of here before that sniper's buddies show up. Let's go…"

"I'm supposed to be here to interview someone!", Hannah protested. "He's gonna meet me at that restaurant over there." She pointed across the square to a tiny hole in the wall space. "I got an exclusive…"

"I think you what you really got was a chance to walk into a trap. C'mon...let's go." Booth took her arm firmly and led her away. "I didn't get shot at just so you can get some stupid interview."

"Hmm…" Hannah gave him a flirty giggle. "Maybe I can interview you instead…and maybe I won't ask lots of questions, if you know what I mean…"

He pretended to be annoyed. "Well, we'll see...I might be busy, you know, filling out reports about how I rescued you while you were doing something stupid…"

"I know, but I think you might like the thank you I have in mind…" Hannah brushed her long hair over her shoulder as she licked her lips. "I promise you'll be satisfied…"

"Maybe." Booth tried hard to play it cool, but without success. "No promises…"

Oooooooooo

No promises. Booth had left it like that with Hannah when he shipped out to come home. He'd only had one other promise to keep, and he fulfilled that obligation when he'd met Bones by the coffee cart a week or so ago. Things had been awkward between them at first, after he explained about Hannah, but Bones seemed unfazed by the news that he'd entered into a new romantic relationship while he was overseas. _Just more proof...she never did love me...not like Hannah does…_

Gazing out the diner's window as he stirred some sugar into his coffee, he was only halfway listening to Brennan as she tried to discuss some point of evidence about the case. He wondered what Hannah was doing today...if she still thought of him...who she was going to try to 'interview' next. He missed her, but it was a wartime romance...nothing permanent.

Suddenly his breath caught in his throat. "Oh, my God!" Dropping his spoon, Booth sprinted to the front door of the diner. "Hannah! What are you doing here?" Sweeping her up into his arms, he kissed her enthusiastically. "I'm shocked. I thought you didn't want to come to the States…"

"I know, but I missed you…" She laughed as Booth tried to nuzzle her neck. "I got a job here in DC so we can be together…"

"That's great! Isn't that great, Bones?" He turned to Brennan, who was sheepishly standing behind him as he embraced his blond girlfriend. "Look...it's Hannah. This is who I was telling you about! Oh, sorry...I should introduce you two...Hannah...this is Bones, my partner..."

"Temperance? Temperance Brennan?" Hannah gaped in surprise at Booth's partner. "It's me...Hannah Burley. Oh, I suppose you don't remember me…"

"On the contrary, Ms. Burley. I have an eidetic memory. As soon as Booth showed me your picture when he came back from his tour of duty, I knew it was you." Pinching her lips together, Brennan averted her eyes from her partner and his companion. "I see you have achieved your goal of becoming a very successful foreign correspondent. Congratulations."

Booth scratched the back of his neck as he looked from one woman to the other. "You guys know each other? How did that happen?"

Hannah shrugged at her confused boyfriend. "Temperance helped me find some research materials when she was working in one of the libraries at Northwestern. She also helped me get through the Intro to Ancient Civilization class I had to take for my humanities credit." As she took Booth's hand, Hannah smiled at the anthropologist. "Well, I hope we get to talk again soon. Right now, though, I'm going to steal your partner away from you. We've got some serious catching up to do…"

Grabbing his things from the table, Booth quickly drank the last of his coffee before turning to leave with his beautiful girlfriend. "See ya tomorrow, Bones."

"Of course. Call me tomorrow afternoon. I should have the information you need by then." Watching the happy lovers leave the diner together hand in hand, Brennan sighed at the irony. It had been Hannah's fault that Booth, with all of his illogical ideas, had entered her well ordered life to begin with, and now Hannah would be the person responsible for removing Booth from her life...she was stealing Booth away for much longer than one afternoon. The loss of Booth's impact on her life now appeared to be permanent.

Sipping her tea, Brennan watched the pedestrians that strolled by on the sidewalk in front of the diner's picture window. Maybe it was just as well. She'd always expected to spend her adult life alone. Why not start today? Perhaps a clean break would be best for everyone involved.

After stopping to pay the bill, she walked out into the bright sunshine. Everything looked the same, and yet nothing would ever be the same again. She began the short walk that would take her back to the Jeffersonian, contemplating the vagaries of life as she strode along.

 _Too bad I could never allow myself to believe in fate...things might have been different between Booth and me if I did. However, now we both know that the concept of 'fate' is just a silly fantasy. Time to face my new reality...alone._


	7. Chapter 7

May, 2012

It was a warm, bright blue day, just like almost every other day in the Turks and Caicos Islands. Sully's boat gently bounced up and down as it sat moored in the harbor at Providenciales. Sitting on the deck in the captain's chair and sipping a cup of coffee as he waited for his next client, he switched on the boat's satellite receiver and fired up his cranky old laptop, hoping the internet signal was strong enough to reach him today. Trying to pick up the signal could be iffy that far away from civilization, but it was worth a try this morning, especially since he had nothing better to do.

He smiled sadly as he waited for the computer to connect. Originally, he'd come to the Caicos for some peace and quiet, wanting to forget the burdens of having a career in law enforcement with the FBI. Dealing with all the crime and death for so many years had done a number on his psyche, and he'd longed for the simpler life...a life where he could set his own hours and do whatever he damn well wanted, when he wanted, and where he wanted. What could be better for a stressed out federal agent than drifting along on the warm currents of the southern Atlantic ocean, running charters from one small coral island to another?

It should've been idyllic. Things should've been perfect. He had everything he wanted, right? He had his freedom, enough money to live comfortably, and very little stress. He had everything he'd ever wanted. He knew he should have no complaints, except…

He was alone.

Well, maybe alone wasn't the right word. He had a group of friends, mostly made up of all the other guys who ran island charters and sat around drinking beer in the local tavern at the end of a long day on the water. He knew the name of the elderly woman who ran the bakery, and the couple who ran the mom and pop grocery store had invited him to dinner occasionally, mostly because they had unmarried daughters. The town was small, so it'd take a lot of effort not to know everybody's name. That wasn't the problem.

He was alone...with no family. There was no one who really cared about _him_. Sully was, by nature, a gregarious man who could talk to almost anybody about anything. He had lots of acquaintances among the townspeople, but at the end of the day, he went back to his boat alone. Nobody was waiting to greet him and ask about his day. Nobody cared where he'd been, and nobody would know if he didn't make it home one evening.

Watching the pelicans dive for fish, he reflected on the one regret he'd had in life. _Tempe...why didn't Tempe want to come with me...we could've been so happy together..._ but he knew the answer to that, and acknowledging it made him angry at himself all over again. _Dammit...if only I'd seen her first at the Green Mill...if I'd only been her partner first, but Booth beat me to it, just like he did with everything else as long as I've known him...maybe I should've tried harder..._

Of course, it wasn't entirely Booth's fault that he'd beaten his buddy when it came to Temperance Brennan, and Sully knew that. Booth had worked tirelessly to get ahead in his career, unable to relax or take things easy as he climbed the ladder on the way to becoming Special Agent in Charge. Booth was driven to be the best so he could work with the best. On the other hand, once Sully had made Special Agent, he'd been pretty much satisfied with just doing his job and just getting by. Being an FBI agent was the means to an end for Sully. He didn't want to get stuck being a lawman forever, but it allowed him to squirrel away a bit of money to use when something new came along to interest him. He wanted to run away from all that crime business so he could do something fun. That had been his plan all along, until he saw Tempe again at that crime scene in Florida…and he lost his heart to her completely.

He should've known better. Tempe had always belonged to Booth. Booth had tried to deny he was in love with her, and Tempe was seriously attached to Booth, even though she didn't know it at the time. She was also somewhat clueless about how Booth felt about her. No matter how hard Sully tried to work it out, Tempe just couldn't be happy unless Booth was in the picture, too. All of his efforts were in vain. Brennan living somewhere without Booth...it just wasn't going to happen.

Finally connecting to the internet, Sully sighed as he skimmed through his messages. He'd called Tempe the night before he was ready to set sail for the Islands, asking her to come see him off, hoping against hope that he could finally convince her to change her mind about coming with him, but to no avail. After seeing his old buddy Booth standing on the pier, waiting for Tempe as she waved good bye, he knew it was really over. He sadly sailed into the open waters, trying not to look back at her as she bade him adieu.

Sometimes he wondered how things might've turned out if he could've curbed his wanderlust, but it was too late for those regrets. It didn't do any good to pine away for a lost love.

Glancing at his email again, Sully chuckled as he saw the date. Lost in his reverie, he'd forgotten that today was his birthday. As usual, there was a message from Booth waiting for him in his inbox. As he clicked on it to open it, he heard a soft cough.

"Excuse me? Are you Sully? If so, I've hired you and your boat for the day."

Quickly putting his laptop aside, Sully stood up and smiled. "Yeah, that's me. Welcome aboard…"

He cast a furtive glance at his new passenger as he helped her onto the boat. The slight blonde woman was dressed in denim shorts and a sleeveless white shirt. She wore sensible deck shoes and her hair was tied back in a neat ponytail and topped with a pair of sunglasses. _Hmm...not the usual tourist clothes._ "Do you have any other stuff with you that you need me to load? Snorkel gear? Air tanks?"

"Nope. I'm not looking for that sort of trip." She held up a small camera and a tablet. "I'm a journalist, and I'm researching a story." Nodding to the stern of the boat, she continued. "That's an unusual name for a boat...Temperance…"

"Named her after a girl I used to know." Sully scratched his chin as he studied the journalist. "This may seem like a pick up line, but I think maybe we've met before, right? Quite a few years ago, I guess…you look so familiar."

"You're right. In fact, that's why I chose to use your services. I'm Hannah Burley. We met a long time ago at the Green Mill Lounge. You were there with your friend Seeley Booth…"

"Oh yeah! Now I remember. You and your girlfriend were trying to make time with Booth and me." Sully grinned as he started the boat's motor and pulled away from the slip. "You girls were just a little too young for us. We were afraid we'd get arrested for contributing to the delinquency..."

As the boat pulled into the harbor, Sully pursed his lips slightly as a thought occurred to him. "Wait a minute. Hannah Burley? Hey, aren't you Booth's wife? I seem to remember something he said in an email a few years ago...that he'd met a wonderful girl in Afghanistan, and he was gonna propose to her." Nodding as they made way past the channel markers, he continued. "That's right. I remember because I was halfway thinking about going back to the States to see if I could convince Tempe it was a good time to come to the islands with me."

"He did propose, but…", Hannah began quietly as she looked out over the turquoise water. "...I turned him down. I'm too much of a gypsy to be tied down permanently by marriage. I loved him a lot, but the thought of being married to anyone was suffocating. Besides, he was still in love with Temperance...just like you still are, I guess." She smirked at the man steering the boat. "It's not just a coincidence that your boat is named after her, is it?"

"Nah, but that was years ago, you know?" Sully squirmed slightly under his passenger's intense blue eyed gaze. Wanting to change the subject, he cleared his throat. "So you said you were working on a story…"

"Yeah, I am. I want to look for pirates."

"You're a couple of hundred years too late, lady." Sully grunted as he shook his head. "They've found shipwrecks and stuff like that in the waters around here, but…"

"No, not that kind of pirates. I mean the kind of pirates that attack yachts and pleasure crafts. I'm an investigative reporter, and I want to know whether or not the US Coast Guard or anybody else is trying to do something about stopping them." Hannah looked over the top of her sunglasses at Sully. "You have a gun on board, right?"

"Listen, lady...I don't know what you're after, but I'm pretty sure I'm not interested…" Sully glared at the woman as she stood next to him. "I gave up playing policeman a long time ago."

"Well, then, you can take me back to town and give my back my money, and I'll find someone else who'll take me. I was planning to hire you for a couple of weeks, but if you're rich enough to give that up, I'll find one of your competitors to take me…"

Sighing softly, Sully finally nodded. "Okay, okay. I'll take you around the islands, but we're not going to engage in any action, and we're not going to try to stop anything from happening. If we see something suspicious, we're calling for help instead of taking care of it ourselves, understand?"

"Yes, of course. That sounds like a prudent plan." Hannah flashed a dimpled smile at the captain of the _Temperance_. "You know what? I think we actually have a lot in common. It seems that we both have the urge to wander far from home, and neither one of us is afraid to tackle new things. We also don't mind being on our own from time to time, right? I think we're going to end up being really good friends."

Returning a smile to the pretty woman standing next to him, Sully laughed out loud. "You're right, Hannah. I think we've got a lot in common. We're gonna be really good friends."

Oooooooooo

Chuckling to himself, Booth watched from a stool at the kitchen counter as his beautiful girlfriend tried to get their little girl to eat some sort of fancy homemade gourmet baby food. "You might as well give up, Bones. I don't think Christine likes peas or carrots all that much."

Rolling her eyes at him as she tried to wipe Christine's hands and mouth, Brennan shook her head in irritation. "She's being difficult because your laughter is encouraging her to act silly, Booth. She thinks we're playing a game instead of having dinner." Groaning as Christine threw her dirty spoon on the floor, Brennan glared at the father of her child. "Why do you have your phone out? I sincerely hope you are not taking my picture at this time!"

"Oh, come on. You look really cute when you have mashed peas in your hair, and the bits of carrots on your nose are a nice touch, too." Booth held up the screen for her to see before quickly dropping the phone back into his pocket. "I like having random photos of you and our baby on my phone. That way if someone wants to see a picture of Christine, I've always got one available."

"However, I imagine very few of your work associates ask to see a picture of me, especially the way I look now." After freeing the baby from the high chair, Brennan balanced the child on her hip as she tried to clean the high chair's tray. "Perhaps you could be persuaded to do something more worthwhile, such as entertaining our daughter while I load the dishwasher."

"Okay. C'mere, you…" Booth took the child from Brennan's hip and carried her into the family room, sitting down on a blanket on the floor. "Let's play with the blocks...we can make a house, right?" He helped the baby build a tower with the soft plastic cubes, chattering softly to her as he took a few more pictures. "Christine might be an architect when she grows up, Bones. She's a natural."

Having finally finished cleaning up the dinner dishes, Brennan joined them in the family room. "I'm sure she is quite gifted, even if she doesn't like to play peek-a-boo…"

"Yeah. Maybe she's so smart that she knows that it's a really stupid game, and she refuses to participate." Pulling out his phone again, Booth smiled at his girlfriend. "Why don't you put her on your lap and I'll take your picture together."

Scooping up the baby, Brennan tried to get the child to hold still long enough for a picture, but Christine resisted, arching her back and squealing to be let go as she reached for another block.

"Christine...Christine, look at Daddy...that's right. Who's Daddy's best girl? Is it Mommy? No, it's the baby…" Booth cooed at his daughter until she laughed out loud, and then he quickly snapped the picture. "Whew. That was a challenge, wasn't it?" Handing the phone to Brennan, he nodded. "It's a good picture, though…"

Brennan grinned happily. "It's an excellent picture. I think we'll need to make copies of it for us, for Max and Russ, and for Pops. Good job, Booth."

"Thanks." Pocketing his phone as he picked up a ball, he nodded with satisfaction. "I guess I'll send Sully a copy of that one, too."

"Sully? Why would you send Sully a copy of that picture? That seems to be an odd choice." Brennan's brows knit in confusion. "I don't understand…"

Embarrassed that he'd exposed one of his little secrets, Booth shrugged a shoulder as he rolled the ball towards Christine. "I usually send Sully an email on his birthday, and it's coming up soon. He doesn't have any family any more, and since Leo, his former partner, died in the line of duty, he hasn't allowed himself to have too many friends." Avoiding his girlfriend's curious gaze, Booth continued. "I think it's kinda sad for his birthday to go by unnoticed by anyone, so I usually send him a message with a funny story or one of those funny pictures with a saying attached to it."

"Booth, I think it's wonderful that you'd do that for him." Brennan reached out to take Booth's hand. "It's a very kind thing to do."

"Yeah, well, we've been friends for a long time, you know?" Sighing softly, Booth smiled as he watched his little girl play with the ball. "This year it's not only gonna be 'happy birthday'. This year it's gonna be a 'thank you' note, too."

"A thank note?"

"Yeah. I guess it's sort of hard to explain." Booth paused, looking around the room before smiling at Brennan. "Sully was the guy who insisted that we go to the Green Mill Lounge that night when we were in Chicago, and that's where I saw you for the first time, remember? I mean, if it hadn't been for that one moment in time, we might not be where we are now, right? And when you two were together, it was like a kick in the balls to know what I was missing out on, because that was when I realized how much I loved you. And then he left, but you stayed, and I knew I had a second chance to prove to you how much I loved you. I know things didn't exactly work out that way, and it took us a long time to get from there to this point in our lives, but we finally made it, and I'm so happy. I think I owe Sully a lot." Seeing Brennan's smirk, Booth grimaced slightly. "Look, I know you don't believe in that whole 'fate' idea, but if I hadn't injured him on the basketball court all those years ago, I might not have gotten to this point in my life. I know you think it's weird, but I think it's true, alright? Right now I have everything I've ever wanted, and I think a lot of that is because of Sully."

Brennan rolled her eyes and grinned at the silly man in front of her. "Oh, Booth...events in time are random, and there are an infinite number of variations that can occur. The fact that Sully was with you at the Green Mill had nothing to do with how we met. We might've met later on in DC as we worked on a case together…"

Now it was Booth's turn to grin. "So what you're actually saying is that our being together was meant to be, and if Sully hadn't played a part, we'd have met some other way and end up together anyway, right? That's what I've been trying to tell you. I guess you do believe in fate after all."

"No, that's not what I meant...I merely wanted to explain that there is a huge variety of ways we could've met. I think it's nice that you want to thank Sully for your present circumstances, but I believe he had very little to do with how we got to where we are now. A lot of it has to do with your personal drive to achieve things, Booth, especially since you knew I'd only work with the best…"

"And I'm the best, right?" Chuckling as he stacked up the blocks and knocked them over with the ball, Booth grinned. "So what you really mean is that random chance brought two people who were the best in their respective fields together to solve crimes? Nah, I don't think so. I don't believe in random chance. I think things happen for a reason…"

"And I don't believe in fate. I think things happen randomly." Brennan grinned back at her boyfriend. "However, in the end I guess it doesn't make any difference how it happened, does it? The end result is the same, and we are happy together. We're a family now, and we will be for a long time."

"You're right, Bones." Booth stood up and picked up Christine, who was becoming fussy. "I love you, and it doesn't matter if it was fate or random chance that brought us together. The point is that we're gonna stay together forever."

"I love you, too, Booth." Kissing him, she took the tired baby from his arms. "I'll put Christine in her bed for the evening, and then perhaps we can spend some more time together."

"That sounds like a great idea." Winking at her, he kissed her cheek. "Maybe we can begin to tackle some of those endless possibilities in the lovemaking department this evening…"

She nodded happily as she climbed the upstairs. "I certainly hope so."

Looking around the pleasant family room one more time, Booth brushed away a tear of happiness. At last he actually had everything he'd ever dreamed of having. It didn't make any difference whether it was due to divine intervention, a friend's kindness, or random chance. He was truly a grateful man.

* * *

 _This is the last chapter of this little story. I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading it. If you have time to leave a review, I'd appreciate it. Laura._


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